


Next Door | Part 1

by mycupoffanfiction



Series: Next Door [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pietro Maximoff Lives, mcu - Freeform, pietro - Freeform, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23469568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mycupoffanfiction/pseuds/mycupoffanfiction
Summary: Pietro wants to discover life by himself in New York after the Battle of Sokovia, though he didn’t anticipate his new neighbour being a cute, though rather troubled girl.
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff/Reader
Series: Next Door [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688371
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Next Door | Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: PLEASE NOTE the Reader is closed off for the majority of this part and there’s not much going on between them at the moment, but the Reader will slowly open up to Pietro and will be written as a shy, gentle soul under her self protection. Neither the Reader nor Pietro will attempt to ‘fix’ each other in this series, it is purely two people trying to heal from different things and finding comfort in each other.

Earphones in, but no music. Head cast down, but eyes alert to those around you as you dug about in your jacket pocket for your keys. A cautionary, subtle glance in the shop window next to the steps up to the side door told you that no one was directly behind you as you jogged up the steps. The keys rattled in the lock, a bit too much for your liking, but you finally got the stubborn bolt unlocked before yanking the door open and stepping in, looking over your shoulder as you entered.

Without even looking, you walked straight into someone and stumbled backwards, the door closing behind you and your body slamming into it. Looking up at the person in the hallway a little startled, you studied him for a second, kind, soft blue eyes examining you, arms reaching out in reaction to you stumbling back, though he hadn’t touched you and he slowly retracted his hands. His hair was silvered but black at the roots and if you had to guess, the guy must go through a lot every month to have it bleached and treated to get it that colour and to have it look so damn good. Sharp features with a pale complexion, though it was contrasted with the dark peppering of facial hair on his chin and jaw.

You weren’t used to other people in the building, you lived alone above the bookshop you had just looked in the window of and there had been one other apartment stood opposite yours, left unoccupied for months on end with occasional tenants that always left after a week or two. “I’m so sorry, are you alright?” He asked with a slight chuckle, voice much smoother and a bit deeper than you expected, the accent was something you certainly hadn’t expected. “Oh, no I’m sorry, I shoulda’ looked at where I was going.” You laughed softly, mimicking his light hearted behaviour.

“Are you- are you lost?” You asked, glancing at the door behind you and he shook his head, smirking at you. “No, I just moved in upstairs.” He replied in that lovely accent again and you found yourself wondering just where he came from, though you could tell he his first language must be something Slavic just from the way his accent sounded. “You must be my neighbour.” He added with a lopsided smile and your eyes widened, reserved demeanor slowly ebbing away at the edges. God, he was handsome.

You pulled a smile onto your lips, albeit, you were sure this new neighbour of yours could probably tell it was not a genuine smile. The anxiety and worry of having a new neighbour was a little overwhelming and while you were a bit taken aback by your head first attraction to him, you had to detach yourself. Attachment wasn’t good for you. It never had been and the past was a painful reminder of that.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You nodded, hoping to cut the conversation short and scoot around him, but as soon as you leaned forwards slightly to move, he stuck his hand out to shake yours. “It is good to meet you, I’m Pietro.” He grinned. You nodded and took his hand, introducing yourself to him. “Just Pietro?” You asked with a convincing smirk and he chuckled, shaking his head. You immediately internally scolded yourself, you’d improved hadn’t you? Then why were you itching to know more about this man with the hopes of poking about and digging up something on him?

“I’m sorry, that was rude of-.”  
“Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff.” He interrupted, undeterred by your prodding and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding onto. “I understand the wariness, I heard this was not the cleanest neighbourhood.” He raised a brow and you raised your chin, eyeing him as your lips parted. “Yeah, it’s definitely,” You paused, mind wandering to the muggings, attempted robberies, assaults and just about every other crime under the sun that had occured on the same streets you’d grown up and lived on all these years. “Not the best place.” You finished your sentence after a short pause. “Welcome to Hell’s Kitchen.” You chirped, almost sarcastically and the corner of your mouth tugging up into a slight smirk as you spoke.

“Can I- do you want a coffee or something?” You asked, perhaps a bit too casually, jaw slightly tense and shoulders stiff. It almost sounded like you didn’t want to invite him and in your brain there was an internal argument with yourself over why the hell you’d just asked that, it was hard enough as it was to trust yourself and you didn’t exactly have a glowing reputation when it came to being a friend. You’d known this guy for less than five minutes and you were inviting him in for goddamn coffee. Anyone might think he was-. You stopped yourself and took a deep breath.

Pietro could see the internal battle you were having with yourself and while you hid it exceptionally well, he was far too used to seeing his sister, Wanda trying to hide her inner turmoils, making it easy for him to spot. Your sharp intake of breath, nervously quick eye shift and the sound of your jacket creaking as you balled your hands up inside of your pockets.

“That’s alright, I was just heading out, but uh- maybe coffee somewhere else? I don’t really know the area.” Pietro suggested, hoping somewhere more public was more comfortable. He could tell you were trying to be friendly, even if you weren’t used to it and the last thing he wanted was to make his neighbour feel uncomfortable. Pietro watched as you visibly relaxed a little bit, brows slightly furrowed as you thought it over and you drew in a breath to speak. The word ‘no’ sat on your tongue, you knew it was probably stupid to say yes, you needed to create some distance, being close with others wasn’t something in your best interests.

“Yeah, actually that sounds good.” You nodded, internally scolding yourself, all of your carefully built up safeguards were shifting aside for this guy and as you caught his eyes, you realised that you saw no reason not to trust him, no dark spark to his eyes, no manipulative speech or forced smoothness to his voice. Maximoff was relaxed, he seemed like he even wanted to make you more comfortable and you finally relaxed a bit and allowed yourself to assess him in a less scrutinising way.

“Lead the way.” Pietro gestured at the door and you slowly turned sideways, eyes still on him, though you didn’t suspect he’d do anything from his slightly slouched stance, comfortable with his hands shoved into the pockets of his tightly fitted track pants. Your heart began to race when you realised Maximoff had to be a damn gentleman and let you go first, it made you vulnerable that you couldn’t see him, but perhaps you actually kind of liked the respectful kindness.

You let yourself out of the building, Pietro following at a respectable distance until he joined you at your side as you walked down the steps onto street level. “Just across there is Rossi’s Cafe, it’s probably the only good one in Hell’s Kitchen.” You pointed lazily across the street at the little Italian New Yorker owned business. The shop front was easily one of the cleanest on the street and the Italian family that ran it made a point of sweeping and washing the store front and pavement every day. You weren’t sure that it made much of a difference, but they seemed to care more about their cafe and what they served than some of the other places around town.

“Are you from around here?” Pietro asked as he followed you at your side down the street. “New York or Hell’s Kitchen?” You asked, glancing at him as you clocked an unmarked car parking beside you, though your nerves only served to trick you and you watched as the driver got out to greet another guy with a friendly hug. “Kinda… Never really lived anywhere but this neighbourhood.” You admitted quietly. That felt a little shameful to say out loud, perhaps it was because you were talking to someone who clearly had travelled at least to some extent.

“You’re not from America, are you?” You asked, maybe a bit too pointedly, but the Maximoff didn’t seem deterred by your unsubtle wording or harshly spoken demeanor and just smirked at you. “No, I’m from Sokovia, I moved to New York about a week ago and I was staying with friends.” Pietro explained and you suddenly stopped, looking up at him with a look of sudden shock, realising why he must have moved from Sokovia so quickly. It had been all over the news, the battle of Sokovia that had wrecked the capital city of Novigrad and quite literally torn the country asunder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked, I know what happened with-.”  
“It’s alright, it was time for me to move on, time to leave the memories behind.” Pietro interrupted, hand pulling out of his pocket, though frozen mid movement as if he had wanted to comfort you, but gave it second thought.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded before stepping up to the edge of the sidewalk and glancing both ways before crossing the street with him. “I guess you’re not used to New York then.” You said, hazarding a guess, but that last week he mentioned could have been spent exploring the city for all you knew. “How did you guess?” He said sarcastically and chuckled, evidently much more light hearted than the usual folk you were used to. Perhaps you could get used to being around someone who wasn’t so serious and if you were honest it sort of took a little bit of the edge off your anxiety.

Approaching Rossi’s cafe, you went in first, less nervous about having Pietro at your six as you entered and went straight up to the counter. Francesca Rossi, the owner’s daughter looked up from the till with a bright smile. “Mio amico!” She greeted you ecstatically as she flipped her curly deep brown hair over to the side. “How are you?” She asked, leaning forwards on the counter as she grinned up at you, catching Pietro’s eye and serving you a questioning look, silently asking who your handsome company was.

After an awkward silence, you almost wanted to ground to swallow you up from how awkward you felt and you felt an uncomfortable warmth creep up your features. “Uh- right,” You mumbled, clearing your throat. God, you really weren’t used to the whole friendly thing and Francesca was quite used to the attitude and tentative love she got from you. At times you even felt like Francesca had made herself your friend without you even realising it.

“Francesa, this is Pietro.” You introduced him, rolling the ‘r’ in his name perfectly and receiving an impressed lopsided smile from the Sokovian. “Pietro, huh?” She asked as he smirked at her, head tipped back a little bit as he eyed your friend. “Yeah he’s my new neighbour.” You added, voicing it with an edge of distrust, still unsure what to think of the Sokovian, though he seemed alright and if he were to do harm the way you had almost expected him to, he probably would have done so by now and wouldn’t have been so relaxed with you.

Francesca snorted and raised her eyebrow at you. “Your neighbour?” She looked at you suspiciously and you glared at her, subtly shaking your head. She was about to make a joke about how no one ever stayed longer than a couple of weeks in that apartment, but the warning stare you gave her told Fran not to say anything. She wondered if your desire for her not to pull that one had anything to do with the fact that he was quite a handsome guy. She was sure however, that you definitely had some kind of a fondness for him, whether you realised it or not.

After ordering some drinks for you both, you settled down at a booth in the far corner. You opted to take the side of the booth that faced the front of the cafe and while you assumed your behaviour, while on edge and full of nerves was well hidden, Pietro could read you like a book and casually allowed you to take the lead, knowing exactly how to go along with someone who was on edge.

While you were on edge for the first few minutes of sitting down in the cafe, conversation came easily to you both and you found yourself even relaxing a little bit in Pietro’s presence. “You said you never left the neighbourhood, yes?” Pietro asked as he spooned sugar into his drink. Nodding, you picked up a spoon from your tray and swirled it around in your drink. “I grew up a few blocks away, but I never really had the heart to leave.” You sighed, glancing down at your drink as you idly stirred the warm liquid with a spoon.

“Do you have any family?” The Sokovian asked, eager to get to know you to some extent and you fixed him with a pained stare for a moment until you breathed out a sigh. “I used to.” You nodded. “But,” A pause lingered as you thought about it, troubled, broken memories coming to mind and you closed your eyes for a second to collect yourself. “It’s just me now.” You gave him a tight lipped smile, Pietro giving you a nod and look of sympathy before taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m sorry.” He apologised, feeling bad for bringing it up. It still seemed fresh for you. “I lost my family too.”

“I grew up in Sokovia, I have a twin sister called Wanda. She is in the city too, but she wanted to stay with our friends.” He explained and you drew in a breath, lips parted as your gaze trailed over him and you realised something. Pietro probably felt out of place and maybe even lonely. If only you knew how true that assessment was on your part, Pietro was fine on the outside, warm and inviting, casual and flirtatious, but on the inside was the growing pit of uncertainty and anxiety, realising just how little he had left his sister’s side.

He’d barely spent no more than a day without his sister, without another Maximoff and his pursuit to discover life in New York had brought him to the compulsive decision to rent an apartment with his own earnings and no help from anyone else. He hadn’t even stopped to think about the fact that he might be away from his twin. But perhaps that was why he found himself being drawn to you, his neighbour, a girl who seemed too closed off and nervous for some, not used to being paid attention to, not used to friendly interactions bar from the extroverted Italian who was friendly with everyone, it seemed.

“Why move here if your sister is living with your friends?” You asked, curiosity taking over and you shook your head at yourself for asking more questions. Though, while you internally punished yourself, Pietro enjoyed your curiosity and indulged you. “I wanted to try something by myself and make a fresh start somewhere new.” He explained. “And you decided this neighbourhood was the place to do it.” You giggled and shook your head.

“You know,” He paused, giving you a soft smile. “Perhaps I will take you up on that offer of yours for coffee at your place if that is still open?” He smirked, shameless, but not pushy and you glared at him, eyes scrutinising him harshly for practically inviting himself, but your glare softened into a look of curiosity and you sat back, pulling one leg over the other as you lifted your mug to take a sip. His forwardness brought warmth to your cheeks and you found yourself feeling shy under his gaze.

Pietro liked this side of you, this little glimpse into the shy, bashful girl that lay underneath all of those layers of self protection, self sabotage, the put on bad girl streak that you didn’t really have. It was all a front for the sweet girl hidden beneath with a troubled past that had caused so much hurt that you’d hidden yourself away. But he saw you, and in that moment, you shyly looked up to meet his soft blue eyes with your timid gaze and you knew that he could see you too.

You were lonely, you had to admit that at least and perhaps he was too. Pietro didn’t seem like the type you’d dealt with in the past. He didn’t seem pushy or all that arrogant. Maybe a little arrogant. But not in a bad way, as per say. He didn’t seem like the type to wriggle into your good graces, captivate you with manipulative wording and loud gestures of friendship or romance. He just seemed like someone who wanted a friend and perhaps he even saw something in you.

You smiled softly at him, demeanor completely different now that you both knew he’d had a glimpse at what you were really like. Taking the last sip of your coffee and digging into your jacket pocket for the last of your cash, you met his eyes with a soft look, lips curled up gently at the corners. “Come for coffee at mine, anytime Piet.” You nodded, giving him the nickname as you placed a couple of dollar bills on the table for Francesca. “I will see you around, Prinţesă.” He winked and grinned at you, seeing your genuine, bashful smile. Pietro copied you and gave you a name, Prinţesă feeling the most natural to him.

Perhaps making a friend was in your best interests. Maybe it was time to finally let else someone in.


End file.
